


Staying Behind

by Ambrevalentine



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/M, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Male-Female Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-21 07:33:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15552759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ambrevalentine/pseuds/Ambrevalentine
Summary: When I first did Thane's romance in ME3, I was disappointed with the lack of reaction of Shepard's friends and colleagues following his passing, so I wrote this, from Shepard's point of view. Now I'm finally posting it.Shepard is mourning Thane and her best friend Garrus is there for her.





	Staying Behind

Thane was gone. With a last cough, a last shuddering breath, he had departed right before her eyes, a hero, the voices of the two people he loved in his ear, praying to the gods he believed in.

What was left for her?

She had left Kolyat still in prayers, her mind throbbing, her heart pounding, and nausea settling deep into her gut. Now she was looking blankly at the buzzing agitation, surrounded by the sounds of suffering, the coughs, and the tears of those left behind. Like herself.

The pain had yet to settle in. She knew, dimly, that she was still in shock. It had come too quickly.

His passing was inevitable. It had been one of the first things she had learned about him, that he was going to die soon. He told her so, all the way back to their first meeting, at the Dantius Towers on Illium – gods, was it only a year and a half ago? - but she had not been ready. Not now. Not ever.

_“Siha, I'm afraid I've picked a bad time to leave...”_

Damn right.

She was forced to move to the side against a wall as a gurney passed her by urgently. That was when she heard them, two doctors arguing. She frowned, listening in. Intellectually, she knew the woman was not wrong. They could not handle everyone, would run out of supply. But rage filled her blood, at the thought they would sacrifice anyone, anyone, to save others. Would they have sacrificed a terminally ill Thane too?

“We are fighting even now for those people you're talking about,” she bit with a fierce glare, “if you let them die, that fight is for nothing!” She did not even wait for the woman's answer, storming away.

_“Siha, I'm afraid I've picked a bad time to leave...”_

Thane...

She had not expected the flash of pain that followed the memory of his voice, and the terrible knowledge that she would never hear it again. Not from his lips.

She felt like crying. She did not.

She was Commander Shepard. She had to remain strong and confident, for everyone to see.

It had been years since she last felt like shedding tears. She did not cry for Kaidan, no matter how close they had been. She did not cry as she watched Mordin walk to his own end, a serene smile on his funny, loveable face. That wound was still fresh. She did not cry either, when she condemned 304 942 Butarians to death, and yes, she would never forget the exact number of casualties. They may have been slavers, but their destruction was still on her head. And among those numbers, how many slaves...

Instead of crying, she walked to the hospital entrance, refusing to allow herself to turn back, to gaze upon his still body, one last time. Thane was gone.

Thane. Was. Gone.

Her stomach lurched, and she stiffened. Visions of him in a pool of his own blood, as she was forced to run after the assassin, played behind her eyelids. He had looked up at her then, eyes fathomless, as he pressed her to go on, telling her he would be fine. Telling her he had time.

Even now, ideas of revenge did not come to her mind, the killer barely an afterthought. She could only think of Thane.

She had gone to him as soon as she could, tormented by the idea that he might be dead already, hoping he would live to see another day.

Not knowing the reality would stuck her in between.

She had been a fool to think she could ever ready herself for his departure.

She had fallen for Thane hard and fast, in between long conversations and tender touches. A sparkle of light so bright, so sudden, gone.

Gone.

The Alliance had robbed them of what little time they could have had. Six months, she had been jailed. She had accepted that fate, it was her duty to do so. She was responsible for the Batarian death tole, if not guilty, for she knew what she did was the right thing to do. The Butarians would have died at the Reaper’s claws anyway. She had given the Galaxy time. A time that could have been put to better use than petty squabbles between political factions and high ranking military officers with their heads stuck up their asses. But time nonetheless. Time she hoped had served somehow. Because...

Because it was time that should have been hers and Thane's. Time she had spent in complete isolation instead, not even allowed to receive the messages he said he had sent her. Not even able to send some back.

Now she had a galaxy to save and she had no idea where she would find the strength.

The only comforting thought was the fact that she was almost certain she would die during this war. Hard to imagine how else it could go. She had cheated death once, and she had paid a very high price for it. But it had allowed her to meet him.

Thane, with his powerful grace, his serenity, his silence. Thane, whose intelligence and spirituality had seduced her as surely as his exotic beauty had. Thane, who wanted to change his life around. Thane, devoted father... adoring lover.

How she missed him. She swallowed hard, knowing it would never change, that she would always miss him, that he would never come back...

Mindoir still hurt. His death would never stopped hurting.

Maybe she would die before she was forced to move on.

He had said he would wait for her across the sea. She had replied she would meet him there.

But there was no sea, no sweet afterlife. She knew, she had been there. There was nothing but oblivion. He had needed her to believe, so she had made sure she did. For a while, she had allowed herself to forget she had died once. She had prayed to Kalahira and Arashu, even during her six months in lock-up. She had – in between her own preparations for the Reapers' unavoidable arrival – read about the old gods of the Drells, about their dead world, she had learned the musics, and the silences, the rituals and the prayers. Theirs were fascinating cultures. It had made her feel closer to him.

Nobody came to her as she stood there. It was as if nothing had changed. She lingered a few more moments, but soon the sounds and smells of illness, wounds and death became too much, and she exited the hospital, taking a transport to the docking bay area. She needed to get back to the Normandy, to make sure everyone was 100% and back on board. There was a war to be fought.

She had to report to Hackett about Udina. She hoped she would be able to talk to Anderson too, soon. She needed his wisdom right now. She needed to be reminded vividly that there were people fighting and dying, people she cared about. People who needed her.

She walked to the elevator, marveling that nothing seemed to have changed. The enormity of her loss was nothing, she mused, to the rest of the Universe. No-one cared that among the billions dead and dying, a single Drell laid lifeless in a Citadel hospital. No-one but her and Kolyat.

Ashley was waiting for her, and Shepard hoped she would not go into a rant of obsessive mistrust, would not start another speech about Cerberus, and how could Shepard, and so on. She truly had no patience for it right now. She would never have shot Ashley, had been beyond glad that she had lowered her gun and turned on Udina, but she was on the verge of sending her on her way with a stream of cutting curses.

Thankfully, the Lieutenant-Commander was not there for that. And when she asked to come back on the Normandy, Shepard said yes. She was not feeling particularly happy or unhappy about it. She was not feeling anything about anything. She was numb. But Ash did not seem to realize or notice. Was she even aware of Thane's passing? Did she remember him at all? He said he would keep her safe, but she knew he would not have needed to introduced himself for that. He probably had not.

She hoped he had not, because otherwise, Ash's indifference would be rather shameful. And she wanted to believe in the quality of her friend's character, if anything.  
They clasped hands, and went on board without a word about it.

Traynor told her Hackett was waiting for her report with a smile. She looked relieved.

Right. They did save the Citadel.

She had almost forgotten this was supposed to be a victory. It felt anything but. They owed it to Thane, and Thane was gone.

The crew saluted her, as they normally would, and none of her team came to talk. None of them. Suddenly, she felt cold, remembering.

_“I know you went back to Thane! Be with who you want to be with, but I'm done playing games!”_

She thought she had been clear with Liara. They had had a night before Ilos, before she even knew of Thane's existence, a passionate and deep exchange, and Shepard did not regret it. However, after her resurrection, Liara had changed. Two years and Shepard's death had been enough to destroy the gentle, bookish, knowledge-thirsty girl and put a hardened, cold, calculating woman in her stead. Her rebuke had driven the Commander even farther away. She had met and fallen for Thane almost at the same time. But she still loved Liara, even this new Liara, deeply. She was the closest thing she had to a best friend. She had told her so after they had killed the Shadow Broker. She had admitted to seeing Thane, to loving him. Liara had seemed to accept it, going as far as advising her, about their short time together, about only taking the good and not dwelling on the inevitable. They had shared a comfortable evening, their friendship intact, or so Shepard had thought, close as ever. When she had found the Asari on Mars, she had told her she was doing all this for the people she loved, meaning to include Liara, and she had meant it. But Liara had obviously heard something different in her words, read something more in her gentle touch. It was probably Shepard's fault, too ambiguous about her own feelings...

_“I know you went back to Thane! Be with who you want to be with, but I'm done playing games!”_

Liara's words had felt like a cheap shot nonetheless, when the Asari knew Thane was dying, knew very well how bad the Kepral Syndrome had become. How little time they had left.

Shepard had said nothing, had not even tried. Instead, she had fled to Garrus' lair, and shared some thoughts with him on Eve and Mordin, and their coming mission to Tuchanka.

And now, Liara was not there. Nobody was.

She went to the communication room, and turned the vidcom on, watching as first Hackett, and then Anderson appeared in front of her. They talked about Udina, the assassination attempt, and then...

“Kai Leng...”

She had never heard Anderson's voice go this deep. It was a wrathful drawl, and his eyes were cold. The name resonated within her, and she tensed.

She asked for some more information about him, a profound, vengeful feeling finally settling in her chest. Another one of the Illusive Man's projects. The man who had taken her love from her before his due time.

Even if she knew that death had suited Thane better than a long agony in a hospital, Kai Leng had still robbed them of what little time they had left...

Oh, so the Asari and Salarians were crawling back now? Good. She could not bring herself to say that it was at least one positive outcome, because there was no such thing coming from the man who had killed Thane. But it was something, to know that the Dalatrace would feed on her disdainful words, while the Salarians finally took the necessarysteps to ensure their survival. With the Asari... she could guess it would still be touch and go for now.

“You've always trusted me, I won't let you down,” she said to Anderson, as he was about to go back to the fight. There was a flash in his eyes that told her he knew those words were more of a reminder to herself than a way to reassure him. He did not ask. She did not know if he would have, had Hackett not been there. Maybe. He did care a lot for her, more than he should as her superior officer, she knew that much.

So, to the Quarians now? She felt so tired. But there was no time to rest. If she rested, she would start... remembering... And time was short.

_“Time for me is short, Siha, but what little I have left is yours to take.”_

Thane. He had said those words often, in various ways, when they were still fighting together against the Collectors. They were running, always running. But there had been countless encounters, long discussions about philosophy, literature, religion, science... and after... about them, feelings and hopes and dreams.

Gods, he was not coming back!

“Shepard.”

Liara! She looked up towards the Asari. Maybe...

“Do you have a moment?”

She nodded, almost eager. But Liara was not there to offer support. She was relaying a message. Shepard did not show how disappointed and bitter that made her feel. She listened, noting that it was urgent, and deciding it would be their next step, before heading to the Quarians. Liara left after that, and Shepard did not stop her.

She looked around the briefing room, feeling bereft. The image of the Crucible did not seem to be enough to give her some sense of purpose. She closed her eyes and took a breath, stretching her shoulders and neck, before heading towards the command center. The two female soldiers guarding the pass-way were still gossiping and commenting on recent events. As opposed to the regulations as it might be, it was now part of the comfortable normality on board the ship.

Today, it made her skin crawl. Still, she said nothing and passed them by silently.

The fact that Traynor immediately called for her attention did nothing to alleviate her mood, but she complied, and went to her strategist/self-appointed yeoman. She had to give it to Traynor, even after she gently turned her down, the woman had not changed her attitude towards her one bit. Efficient, strong, smart, a bit geeky and curious. She was the kind of women Shepard would have gone for in a heart beat... But it had been a no brainer, even then. She had not yet seen Thane again, but she had hoped he was there somewhere. Her heart had never stopped belonging to him, and him alone.

The thought hurt. Back then, she had not yet lost hope.

She concentrated on what Samantha was saying. Cerberus' wayward scientists. Jeez. Did the Galaxy have no other hero that could take care of side missions like this, while she was, like, saving the fucking Galaxy? One more on the list then, just after the Asari mission.

Anyway, Traynor was a damn good addition to the crew. Which reminded her she had to check Kelly was still safe, the next time they docked on the Citadel.

Too much to do, no time to grieve. That seemed to be the collective message sent by the Universe... and her team and crew.

She probably had a few emails to go through, but she would do that from her cabin later. Right now... she walked up to the flight-deck. She needed to do her usual walk-around. Maybe someone would... acknowledge Thane's passing? She had never felt more alone.

Joker's voice greeted her as she entered.

“Damn, I could really use something to shoot right now!”

She lifted an eyebrow, but did not comment. She walked up to her pilot and AI.

He started talking about Cerberus as soon as he noticed her. Then Ashley. He was feeling rather uncharitable towards her, and for once, Shepard tended to agree. But among all his yammering, he said nothing about the ex-member of his crew that gave his life for all of them a few hours before. She felt a strange sort of rage at that. But she was his commanding officer, she had to keep it together.

In a sense, talking to EDI was even worse. She started speaking about the Reapers, and the purpose of synthetic life, waiting as always for Shepard to have all the answers. She was just a soldier, a sniper dammit, not some wise philosopher. She tried her best to explain to the AI that organics were not simply driven by the will to make babies all over the place. That there was more to life than that.

Like love.

She and Thane would never have been able to have children, even without the Kepral sword hanging over their head. Two different species. Not that she expected Thane to want any, not when he had a troubled young adult son to love and care for already. As for Shepard, she had never really considered the possibility for herself. She did not feel like she was mother material. What would she do with children? The only things she knew how to do well was serve, lead and fight. Kill things.

And love… love with the same sheer stubbornness she showed in everything.

Oh. And loss. Of course.

EDI went back to her chair, while Joker marveled over her programmings. She took the time to ask about Ashley and her reaction to the AI's body, simple precaution, before heading straight to the shuttle bay. She had taken to the habit to start the rest of her walk-around there, because she felt for Steve, and wanted to make sure he was okay first thing.

Only now did she realize exactly why she was feeling so empathetic. It was obvious, of course it was, but she had refused to see it. The similarity. And only now did she feel it completely.

Don't linger on me, his husband had asked, don't stay trapped in the past.

Thane would want her to move on as well.

She could not, and she suspected Steve could not either, no matter what he said.

She exchanged a few words with him, about Udina. But he did not seem in the mood to talk, and so she left him be. He did not know about Thane, or at least, she had never discussed it with him. He might have heard, but if he did, he said nothing about it. She walked the small distance to Vega, and listened as he ranted about politicians in general, and Udina in particular. He was very much himself. She did not care for it, so she left the shuttle bay, after a few words with the rest of the crew there.

Engineering. Diana Allers. If she could have avoided that particular pain, she would have. But she could not. Allers was too precious an asset. Of course, the woman asked for an interview. Well, that could wait. She walked up to the core, exchanged a few words with Adams, Donelly and Daniels, but there was nothing to report.

Which might have been the first real good news of the day.

So she continued on to Javik's space. She steeled herself before entering. Dealing with the bloodthirsty Prothean was often trying.

Yup. There it was, the gruesome description of the fate reserved to traitors in his cycle. Sometimes, she suspected he was trying to shock her with exaggerations. However, the depressing thought that all he related had been real was a more probable explanation. So much for the wise and peaceful Protheans of legends.

What was that now? Oh yes, Javik in the Citadel, that would go terrifyingly well, she could just feel it.

Kai Leng. He was now talking about him.

“It is good to have a name for the enemy I will enjoy killing most.”

You and me both, buddy, she thought. And for once, she found his words strangely comforting, even if he probably had no idea she was feeling that way. It felt as if someone cared, even if he did not.

After she had entered the elevator, she stood there for a while, not hitting the “Crew Deck” button just yet. She felt oddly nervous, without understanding why. The low tuning of her pain was still rumbling inside her chest, threatening to overcome her in a wave at any given time. The more it went on, the more she wished someone would acknowledge

Thane's sacrifice. His existence.

Her loss.

Was she weak to need someone to notice? Anyone?

Someone had put his name on the memorial wall. It felt like a relief, and she let out an almost shuddering sigh. Was it Garrus? He was standing there. She walks over to him.

She should have known she could rely on him. She always could.

Only, not as much as she thought. He commented on their mission, asked her if she would have shot Ash – a firm 'no' there, which he did not seem to share – and told her he was glad to have the Lieutenant-Commander with them.

“At least Ash didn't have to join Kaidan.”

Not a word about Thane. Not one.

“Let's hope he's looking out for us, this was his fight too.”

The answer she gave was almost automatic. She missed Kaidan, but her eyes were on her lover's name. The wound widened some more, as she turned away from Garrus. Garrus knew. He knew about Thane and her, and even if he had not, they just lost one of their teammates.

Not a word.

She walked like an automaton to see if Ash was settling in – she was – and to talk a bit with the rest of the crew. Then she headed for Liara's, hoping for some... well, some acknowledgment, again.

When she entered, Glyphe was reporting to Liara about infiltrating agents in the Council's staff.

Shepard understood the value of Liara's new position, but it did not stop her from worrying about what the Asari was becoming. She hoped Liara's core values would keep her sane, but she was not so sure. Still, she went to her, her closest friend, hoping for some words, some sort of recognition of her pain, of Thane's heroic last stand.

None came.

“Perhaps we can talk later.”

That was what Liara said, in a busy, borderline dismissive voice. Another fresh blow.

Shepard nodded, and left, walking over to Doctor Chakwas' office. But the woman who claimed they were all her children only asked that she would intercede for her with some

Turian at the Citadel. Medical supplies were important. Very important.

But...

Oh well. Shepard left the infirmary, and finally made her way to her cabin. There, she stood, hands turning into fists, wanting to scream at the injustice of it all. She took a few deep breaths. Her computers were signaling unread messages, and Allers' request. She ignored both for now.

There was no way she could visibly mourn Thane, not with her rank and what rested on her shoulders, and since nobody seemed to care enough to ask about it... But her need for acknowledgment had not disappeared. In consequence, she chose the only available way she could think of to honor his passing, in a human, non demonstrative fashion.

She changed into her official service uniform. Allers would assume it was for the interview, and as for the others, she could not give a fuck what they would think.

This was for Thane, to honor his memory, since apparently nobody else on that ship gave a damn.

Or rather, since Drells did not have such a custom, it was for herself, because she needed it.

Once she had adjusted her new outfit, she looked at herself in the mirror and took another deep breath. She exited the bathroom and walked to the fish-tank, pressing her forehead against it.

Thane had liked it, said it reminded him of Kahje. He would talk, rather humorously, about the various fishes and their characteristics, as they were laying on the bed after coming back from the Omega-4 relay. They were traveling to the Citadel, where she was to leave part of her crew, including him, before turning herself and the Normandy in.

Those had been moments in between, when neither of them could tell exactly what would happen...

She missed his arms, and his scent. His calm, deep voice, and his smile. The intensity of his eyes. She almost slid to her knees, but she resisted. She still had a few things to do, before she could allow herself some moments. She turned, and invited Allers up. Better to be done with this now.

She was tired of explaining her ties to Cerberus, but she did it again, and again, in three thousands different ways, or that was what it felt like... And then...

“No way,” she marveled silently at Allers' words, stunned, “she's hitting on me? Tell me she's not hitting on me!”

She felt the insane urge to throw the woman out of the airlock, as Javik would put it. She kept her composure – she needed Allers after all – and replied coolly. The woman rambled a bit, but Shepard was not really listening, only wanting her gone. Once the journalist had left, she firmly locked her door and went, with a tired sigh, to check her messages.

“Allers, that's done,” she mumbled to herself as she skimmed through them, “Ah... good news from the Krogans... hm hm... met clans... fight the Reapers... reasons to hope... well, good job Bakara.”

She typed a quick answer. It was good to hear from Eve.

“Primarch Victus, I like you, I really do, but could you just... I don't know... find someone else to solve your problems?” She mumbled with a sigh, as she read through the General's request.

Sometimes she felt as if her SPECTRE status was exploited more by others than by herself. “Could you use your status for this? As a SPECTRE, could you do that for me?” And so on, and so forth. Ah well, one Volus corruption matter coming right up.

A short invite from Jack followed. Gladly, she thought with a light, rather wistful smile. Then an article confirming she had been right to spare Aresh Aghdashloo on Pradia. She wondered if she should tell Jack, but left it at that until she had the woman in front of her. Ah, Vega wanted to talk privately as well. Why he had not said so when she was down there, she could not fathom. But whatever. Better do it now.

She got up, leaving the last three unread messages, and invited her subordinate up. Talking with Vega was always something else. She listened to his story, and advised him as best she could, let him call her 'Lola' as he always did. She kind of liked it. A little. Vega was refreshingly simple.

And he would let her borrow his password to put in some supply requests while she was in detention. That helped. A lot.

She went back to her terminal, and finally read the last message's subject.

_Never lose hope._

She knew those words, and her blood froze in her veins. The message on the Shadow Broker's terminal. She had never read it, had stopped after the two first lines. It was too intimate, was not meant for her eyes at the time.

And it had been too hard.

She did not tell Thane she knew it existed. Afterwards, she had done everything in her power to forget it did. She had asked him about the transplant, however. Because if he could be saved... He had already agreed to be added to the list, but his condition was deteriorating fast. At the time the report was written, he had had no reason to keep on living, and felt others would need the lungs. After finding Kolyat, after choosing to start a relationship with her, it was already too late, the Syndrome was too advanced for a transplant. She had not insisted. She had wanted the sadness, the apology she could read even on his inscrutable face, gone. So she had kissed him, and wrapped her arms around his neck, climbing on his lap. It had not stopped the sparkle of hope that came alive within her.

A fruitless hope.

She closed her terminal and put her fist in her mouth, biting hard to stop the ragging panic, the furious tears threatening to fall in a torrent. She got up and surged to the bathroom, heaving over the sink. The violence of her body's reaction took her by surprise.  
It took her some times to compose herself enough to walk back into her room, and to sit at her desk. She forced her hand to open the message again, her need to “hear” his voice again stronger than the pain it would cause.

_Siha,_

She could hear his voice say the endearment, as it had many times... It hurt...

_I write this with a heavy hand, knowing you will read this letter when I am no longer able to share my thoughts. I am dying, Siha. Perhaps because of the differences between our species, I can hope that time will treat you with kindness and dim the hurt of my passing to faded recollections that a Drell would forever remember with perfect clarity._

I want to remember you with perfect clarity... Everything.

She brought to her mind every memory she had of him with frantic despair. She would forget. Not everything, but too much. Soon she would not remember the smell of his skin, the taste of his mouth, the feel of his grip on her... His voice...

_Selfishly, however, I could not leave this world without leaving a piece of me behind that would never fade._

What I feel will never fade, she thought, bitterness swallowing her.

_I once accepted my fate. Nothing remained but a shell destined to die. I only had to choose the when and how of my passing. I had refused to be confined to a bed, gasping horribly as my life beeped away to machinery I had no use for. I thought of my Irikah, broken, bloodied, and betrayed by my absence. Of Kolyat, small and afraid, bravely pushing at his eyes to stem the flow of tears I had entrusted to him to cry... for both our sakes._

Thane...

_The expectation to move swiftly to my end vanished upon uniting with your cause. You awoke me, Shepard. My heart quickened its sluggish beat if only to remain at your side and protect you with everything that I am. I was content to simply watch, take the time left given and praise all I know for allowing me to walk my final days with hope and certainty that I am worthy of more than my cold isolation, solely because you believed._

Don't... I can't...

_I love you._

The words she knew to be true. The ones he had never said out loud. The one she had not said either.

I love you too.

_If all else whispers back into the tide, know this for fact. By grace given me by the Goddess Arashu, I bid her divine protection to you, my warrior-angel, my Siha, to succeed in your destiny. To light your path through the coming darkness. To give you hope, when all seems lost._

_I will await you across the sea._

_Thane_

There is no sea, Thane. Come back. I can't do this without you.

But she did not say anything out loud.

Her vision blurred, and she felt the tears starting to roll down her cheeks, unbidden. She close her eyes tightly, and slammed her fist on the deck, furious, helpless.

Alone.

The distinctive sound of the elevator made her jump slightly. What now? She hurried to the bathroom, splashed water on her face and dried it quickly. Even so, the paleness of her dark skin, the red circles around her eyes would give her away to anyone observant enough.

Not that her teammates seemed very observant these days.

“Shepard?”

Garrus. That was new. He never came up to her quarters if he could help it. Something about it not being proper military accommodations, though she suspected he had said that only to tease her.

She took a deep breath and walked out.

“It's open,” she called back as she walked down to the lounging area.

The Turian entered. He was still in his armor, his visor firmly in place (she was not sure she had ever seen him without, come to think of it). She turned away from him, to hide her state, and asked in as neutral a voice as she could muster:

“What is it?”

She started tidying up her table, or making it look like she was at least, but when no answer came, aside from the soft noise of him shifting from one foot to the other, she turned, frowning. The Turian was looking intently at her.

“What's wrong, Garrus?” An idea. “Is it about your family? Any news?”

She knew how worried he was, and by extension, she was too. They were all losing people.

Losing people.

She had probably been selfish, she thought bitterly.

Garrus' mandibles shifted, in a way she had come to recognize as discomfort. She could flatter herself to have become quite good at reading Turians. Or at least her Turian. Humans were notoriously atrocious at doing so, especially considering most could not tell two Turians apart.

She would recognize a naked Garrus in the middle of a platoon of fully naked Turians any day. Not that she wanted that particular test to actually happen. Ever.

“Nothing for now,” he said at last, his dual-tone deep.

She did not give him any pre-made answer this time, and simply waited for him to come around to why he had taken the trip up to her domain. His mandibles flared again, and he took the few steps separating them. She resisted the impulse to walk backward reflexively. A lifetime in the military had made her very wary of abnormal situations, as well as of large predators coming towards her.

He stopped closer to her than was comfortable, and closer than she imagined any well trained Turian would of his or her commanding officer outside of combat. She knew them to be very stiff and serious about rules and regs. Still, she trusted him with her life, in and out of the field. She did not step back.

He peered at her some more, as if he was trying to figure something out.

Her tears, she realized. Turians did not cry. Asari did, though. He must have known them for what they were. She was not embarrassed to have been caught crying, but it annoyed her somehow that it was a puzzle to him.

“Garrus, I'm busy,” she said stiffly.

“Shepard,” he said, and nobody said her name quite the way he did, with a sort of purring around the “r”. It was comforting. “I...” He trailed off, shifting again, obviously not knowing what to say, or how to say it.

“It's fine, Garrus,” she tried to reassure him, even she it was anything but. Nothing was. Though if it was about Thane... she could not deal with it right now, too little, too late, and she was too raw and angry.

“No, it's not.”

She blinked at the unexpectedly strong reply. She had thought he would take the quickest way out. Garrus was not good with feelings of any kinds, a soldier through and through. And Turians were far less emotional creatures than Humans, Quarians or Asari were anyway.

“I went to see Thane at the hospital,” he said, and she frowned. When had he... “Before he died. I mean, after Udina's coup...”  
He trailed off again, and made a sort of droning noise her omnitool did not translate. She bit the inside of her cheek, refusing to comment. Garrus' mandibles stretched and came back in place.

“He could barely talk but... He asked me to keep an eye on you. Not that you need it, or that I wouldn't anyway... But... I'm sorry, Shepard. I know you and he... well, I know what he meant to you.”

She blinked and shook her head, trying desperately to keep it together.

“I wanted to say something sooner... But I didn't know how... It's not like... There is no words for something like this, right? I don't know about Humans, I mean, Turians... When we choose a true mate, it's for life, so... I know that much.”

Garrus... She pressed her hands into fists, hoping to stop the tears she felt coming. In the end, she could not. Her eyes fluttered, looking around, but she could see his panicking expression, as his mouth opened and closed loosely.

“Shep... Err...”

Then she saw a movement and his hand was on her shoulder, hesitant.

“There, there...” He mumbled, lightly patting her, so obviously out of his depths it startled a little laugh out of her. His mouth opened slightly, in what she understood to be a sort of Turian smile. She sniffed and abruptly wiped her eyes.

“There's no time to grieve,” she said at last, hating how unsteady her voice had become. She did not know if it was an affirmation or a regret on her part.

“Hey, Shepard,” he replied, shaking his head twice, “you don't need to prove anything to me, okay? We've been through enough. The Galaxy's going to Hell, but you can take 5. In fact, you should take 5. And you know what? I can afford the good stuff. I've got some Turian brandy, and some of that Human thing and I thought we could...” He seemed to hesitate, and consider. “... toast him. That's what Turians do.”

She could not help but grin. She thought she would not do so again before a very long time. “Do I look Turian to you, Vakarian,” she asked and there it was, the Turian smile again. “Well, you would make a bad Turians, and we bad Turians should stick together. But if I had to guess, I'd say Krogan.” “Krogan,” she repeated, incredulously. “You are brash, brutish, and you got one Hell of a headbutt on you. Plus, Wrex said you were his sister. That's telling. That, and the gracefulness.” “Okay, that's it, Vakarian. I bet I can hold my liquor better than you. You'll be sorry.” “Krogan.” “Bosh'tet.” “Using Quarian insults is cheating.” “I do have Krogan friends who'll kick your Turian ass.” “Awww, calling in the big guns against the mean Turian?” “...Shut it. That's an order.” “Aye, aye, ma'am.”

It was so good to have him here.

Not that it made it any easier when Garrus left to fetch the bottle. Her eyes had fallen on the couch, and she started remembering long moments spent there, talking with Thane, simply sitting together. She could picture him easily, leaning gracefully towards her, eyes dark and heavy with intent...

“That thing's older than I am. I hope it feels less like it than I do.”

She turned to look at Garrus. He had left his armor behind, but not his visor. He was reading the label on one of the two bottles he had brought. The levo-friendly one. She smirked, but sat on the bed.

He sat on the stairs, not on the couch. She did not ask him to, but she felt grateful.

He looked straight at her, handing her the levo-friendly bottle. Scotch. Trust Garrus to go for the hard stuff. “Should we?”

“You first,” she said after a moment, swallowing slowly to compose herself.

He nodded, and opened his bottle using his talon, while she unscrewed hers.

“Wherever you are, Thane Krios, I'm glad I got to meet you. When I saw first hand your sniping and hand-to-hand skills back on Illium, I was damn impressed. For such a small creature, you were deadly. Terminally ill or not, that fucker never stood a chance against you, and you died fighting. You were a good friend, a comrade-in-arms, and I'll... we'll miss you. All of us.”

He took a swing and nodded towards her.

“I miss you,” she said simply. She could not bear to be any more intimate just yet. Not because of Garrus, or the situation. Just because it was so fresh. The drinking was only starting, after all.

A buzzing sound stopped her before she could even take a sip. Garrus growled low, and it sounded almost protective. She smiled.

“Busy,” she called out, but readies herself to go if it was an emergency.

Liara's voice answered. “Shepard, can I come in? It'll only take a minute...”

Dammit. Garrus turned to look at her inquisitively and she shrugged.

“It's open.”

The Asari slid inside the room with her usual grace, and stopped when she saw Garrus.

“Oh... I... I didn't know you weren't alone.”

Garrus leaned back to peek at her. “Come on, T'soni, don't be shy.”

Liara looked at him in a way that would have probably meant rolling her eyes for a Human. As entertaining as it usually was to watch those two interact, she had no wish for it at the time.

“Something you wanted, Liara?” She asked, bringing the Asari's attention back on her.

“Yes, well... I should... Here.”

She took the few steps separating them, past Garrus, and trusted a flat package into her hands. Shepard looked at the parcel and up at her friend again.

“Er, thanks.”

“I'm sorry,” Liara said and turned to leave.

“Liara, wait. Want a drink?” She jiggled the bottle for the Asari's inspection. “We're... having a Turian toast. For Thane.”

Saying it still tasted foul in her mouth. Liara looked sad, but shook her head.

“I need to head back. Broker's business. There are still a lot to take care of concerning the Citadel.”

“Okay,” Shepard replied, trying to keep the disappointment from her voice. Liara nodded, licked her lips, and left. Garrus looked at the package curiously.

“So, what is it, d'you think?” He asked, and she shrugged, putting the bottle aside to tear off the paper.

She had to muffle a sob at what she found. Garrus growled her name, worry written in his dual tone, but she could not answer. Inside the carefully wrapped paper was Thane's file. The Broker's file. And with it, a note signaling a money transfer to Thane's son. His address was also on it. On top of it all laid a picture of herself and Thane. She had her back to him, but he was looking at her.

The way he was looking at her spoke of passion, affection, devotion. It was beautiful. She closed her eyes and put it all down on her desk.

“Come on, Garrus,” she murmured. “I really need that drink now.”

* * *

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Written a few years ago, with no beta in sight. Sorry for the mistakes left in there. Thank you for reading.


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